


Remember Us This Way

by Humbleapplecrumble



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, EWE, F/M, Flashbacks, Flying, Getting Back Together, Harry Potter (mentioned) - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mostly Fluff, Panic Attacks, Post War, Professor Snape (mentioned) - Freeform, Reunion, Romance, Severus Snape (Mentioned) - Freeform, Short Story, dramione - Freeform, hermione granger - Freeform, soft romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humbleapplecrumble/pseuds/Humbleapplecrumble
Summary: 'He wasn’t thinking about her. He’d forgotten about her, long ago.And now she was going to have to forget about him all over again.'A short fluffy story about the reunion of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, dragged apart and pulled back together through memory loss. Told through Hermione's perspective, where you learn what happened as the characters do. Featuring a very soft Draco. COMPLETE
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	1. All Over Again

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing this as a romance between the two of them during school that led to this, but as it progressed I realised that it would be more interesting to only tell part of the story, and learn along the way what had happened just like the characters do. I haven't posted anything in months, so it's nice to get back into it :) hope you enjoy it!

Hermione had felt suddenly stuck to the spot when she saw him; the tall back of a man with short, almost white hair that could undoubtedly only be one person. 

She’d not laid eyes on Draco Malfoy in years. She’d almost forgotten about him - or liked to pretend she had. More accurately, she’d convinced herself that she would never cross paths with him ever again and pushed any thoughts to the contrary into a tiny box in the back of her mind. Her heart thumped and she instinctively turned on her heel, making her way back to the safety of her office, and proceeded to lie to herself that it couldn’t possibly be him. But, as a precaution, she made sure not to leave until the end of the day. _Just incase._

Over the following days, Hermione banished any distracting thoughts of _him_ out of her mind, and carried on as usual. 

The problem was that ‘usual’ was not exactly easy. Hermione spent her days fighting for change in the care and rights of magical creatures, and although she loved it, it was a never ending incline of challenge. She thrived from challenge, welcomed it, but recently the days were becoming harder. Hermione knew that more and more often, she was biting off more than she could chew. She was determined to do as much as possible with her time, yet found that more and more frequently she could not keep up. 

It didn’t stop her attempting it anyway. That’s how she coped these days; she worked hard and she got things done, and then she moved onto the next thing. That’s how she’d always done things since her first day at the ministry and that’s the way things would stay. She’d just have to manage, because not being busy simply wasn’t an option. 

Days later, Hermione found herself in a conversation with a ministry worker, the name of whom she was embarrassed that she couldn't recall. It wasn't so much of a conversation as it was her being talked at; they were talking at what seemed to be at least a hundred miles an hour, and she had stopped listening. The room seemed increasingly hot, and sweat was starting to trickle down her forehead. She wiped it away, telling herself that if she ignored it, she’d cool down. 

It didn’t work. Conscious that she hadn’t actually responded in a minute or two, she started ‘mm’ing and nodding, and hoping she wasn’t agreeing to anything serious. She placed her hand against the desk that ran alongside them to stay upright. She had absolutely no idea what the wizard before her was rabbiting on about, and found that the room was now wobbling. Her eyesight was blotchy. She concentrated every ounce of energy she had on her words. “I’m sorry!” she blurted. “I have to, um, have to…” looking around, she spotted a door and pointed to it. She breathed a sigh of relief when the wizard appeared to not take any offence to her bluntness, and she fumbled her way through the door.

Hermione took a gulp of air as she burst onto a balcony. She was very momentarily relieved; she hadn’t had a clue what was behind this door, but she needed to be out of the department and this was as good a place as she could have hoped for. Away from the hustle and bustling of the ministry; it had to help. But the relief of the cold air only lasted a short few seconds before she realised that she was gasping, feeling just as hot and suffocated as she had inside. 

A noise came from behind her that told her someone had followed. Clutching the wall, Hermione sensed the presence of whoever it was behind her, but couldn’t even think about looking. The chaos she felt inside was getting worse. “I - I can’t breathe, I can’t even see properly.”  
“Come on, sit down,” he said calmly, taking her hands. He helped her down onto the stone step below and sat alongside her.   
She looked around erratically before her eyes rested on him; on Draco Malfoy. She didn’t have the capacity to consider this absurd situation properly. “What’s-what’s happening to me?”  
He was calm and still - a blaring contrast to how she was feeling. “It’s a panic attack. Just a panic attack. You’re okay.”  
“A panic attack? I’ve never had...” she was interrupted by an enormous gasp.  
He took her hand and placed it flat against his chest. “You can feel me, can’t you? You can feel my chest moving.”  
She found Draco’s eyes for the first time, staring madly back at him.   
“Can you hear my voice?”  
With great effort, she nodded her head. The panic was preventing her from really thinking about what was happening, and her hearing was the only thing that seemed to be unimpaired.  
He nodded back. “Concentrate on my breathing. In and out. Try and copy it if you can. Take your time, don’t rush it. Don’t think about anything else. Just feel.”  
She closed her eyes and did as she was told. Following instructions was clinical and calming. She repeated his words as she breathed. “Just feel.”  
“Yeah,” he whispered reassuringly. “That’s all.” He held her hand to his chest firmly, and gave exaggerated breaths so she could copy.  
Hermione’s breathing had steadied and she opened her eyes. She couldn't help but notice that Draco seemed suddenly distracted, and had placed his other hand against the ground. She thought he seemed a little dizzy himself. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, yes, it's nothing,” he stammered. “I felt almost like... never mind.” He seemed to give a shiver. “Are you? Okay?”  
Hermione swallowed, taking in the man in front of her properly for the first time. She nodded, unable to attempt any words to respond to whether she was okay. She looked down at his hand that still covered hers longingly.   
As if suddenly aware that he was still clutching her, he let go.   
She closed her eyes for a second, still feeling wobbly. When she opened them, he looked intently back at her and it was like being transported back in time. “How did you know what was happening to me? I thought I was... well, dying,” she said with an uncomfortable smile.   
He nodded. “I understand. That’s what it feels like when you don’t know what it is,” he assured her. “I think I was the only one who noticed you leave. I wanted to make sure you were okay. If someone talks you through it, they’re easier to recover from. That’s what I’ve found, anyway.”  
“You get panic attacks?”  
“I used to, a lot, not so much anymore. But I know how terrible it is when they first start, and you looked like you weren’t sure what was hitting you.”  
Hermione wanted to cry, but she fought through it. Thinking about him going through that was too painful – she’d have to push it back into that little box with the rest of her forbidden thoughts. “Thank you.”

After a few more minutes of sitting in the fresh air, Draco had helped her up and she’d made her way back to her office. Her head was swimming. She couldn’t help but curse the universe for letting this happen. Forgetting everything about Draco Malfoy had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, and she wasn’t eager to do it a second time. But, there she was, sitting in her office chair, playing over what it felt like to look into his grey eyes once again. She couldn’t even be entirely sure that he recognised her, it had been so long. But she had memorised every inch of him.

She sank into her chair, and sighed.

He wasn’t thinking about her. He’d forgotten about her, long ago.

And now she was going to have to forget about him all over again.


	2. I remember you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione bumps into Draco once again, but this time, he's the one with something to say.

The trend of difficult days carried on forcefully. 

She hadn’t had another panic attack, thankfully, but she’d come close. 

The work was coming in quicker than it was going out, and Hermione could no longer think straight. She was taking work home with her most nights, but to no avail. She’d even stayed there all night long the week before, but ended up falling asleep at her desk during the following afternoon and missing a meeting. She didn’t need to be there - it was yet another thing that she’d unnecessarily said yes to. 

Hermione was trying to write a list of things to get on top of, but her brain could hardly do that. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she snapped her notebook shut, grabbed her bag and made to leave. She hadn’t an ounce of concentration left in her. She needed air or she was sure she’d collapse. She needed to be out of this building. Pulling her bag over her shoulder, she scribbled a note to Harry apologising for missing the meeting they had scheduled for later that afternoon, telling him she needed to go home and promised to arrange another time to catch up. Satisfied she could leave without causing anyone any problems, she waved her wand at the note. It folded itself into a small paper plane, and whizzed away towards the elevators. 

Hermione stormed through the streets until at last, she was in view of her front door. She dragged her feet, fumbling through the gate, and before long she was through the door. She dropped her belongings, not caring much for where they landed, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

She sank into her armchair and closed her eyes. After a minute or two, she felt herself drifting off, jerking herself awake a couple of times in the process, only to drift off again. 

Until a knock came at the door. 

Alerted, she sat up in her chair, contemplating whether she could ignore it. She was fairly confident she could.

Another knock.

She sank back down, not a bit of energy to spare for anyone who needed her attention, and was sure that whoever it was would get sick of waiting.

“Hermione?”

Unless that someone was _him._

Creeping to the door, Hermione’s heart was practically exploding in her chest. With each step she told herself she’d been hearing things.

But sure enough, she opened the door very cautiously, only to see Draco standing before her. His blond hair hung over his forehead slightly and his deep grey robes were slightly askew.  
“I remember,” he said breathlessly. His cheeks were tinged pink and he was panting a little.   
She was paralysed. Even in her imagination, she was sure this was impossible.  
“Someone was taken from me,” he went on. “I have dreams, but I can’t see them, they’re broken.” He stepped a little closer to her. “I’ve dreamt for years about flying with someone. Someone with their arms around me, and they’re scared and excited, and it’s fucking great. It’s the happiest feeling - it’s freeing and thrilling and beautiful. I can’t ever recall another time where I was that happy. But it’s not a dream at all; it’s a memory.”  
She couldn’t comprehend his words, but couldn’t look away.   
He shook his head a little, as if in disbelief. “It’s you, isn’t it?”  
Hermione tried to speak but her mouth was so dry.  
He stepped closer again, inches from her. “I can’t remember the face, but I remember how they made me feel. Hermione... It’s you.”  
She swallowed, and nodded her head. “It’s me.”  
He held her face in his hands as if seeing her for the first time; studying her as if he couldn’t quite believe it. She blinked; aware her eyes were filling up. “I missed you,” she breathed, unable to hold back the emotions she’d locked away for years.  
He smiled nervously. “I’ve searched for you for years. I’ve had that same dream repeatedly, but every time I turn around to look at you, it would stop. It was too real. I knew it had to be a memory.”  
Hermione bit her lip. “Are you... how do you...” she stammered, feeling lightheaded. “I don’t know where to begin to talk to you about this.” She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly before looking back, entirely overwhelmed. “How is it possible that you remember me?”  
He took back his hands, glancing at the floor and back at her. “It's a bit of a long winded tale," he started. "Actually, do you think we could maybe... talk this over dinner? Tonight?”  
He was so much like she remembered, even in the way he stood. She felt overloaded with information and couldn’t process her thoughts quickly enough to uphold an actual conversation. She knew instantly that she should do anything to get out of a dinner with him, but her lips betrayed her. “Of course.”

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon overthinking what had just happened. For an hour or so she was unintentionally grinning; the feeling of having him back in her life was indescribable. But it started to fade as she questioned his intentions - she knew nothing about him now. ‘Was he with someone? Had he come to clear this up, and then leave again?’ Her past feelings of bitterness about him started to creep back and by the time she left to meet him, she didn’t know how to feel. 

“How are you?”  
A brief laugh escaped her lips, and she capped it as soon as it started. The restaurant glimmered with candlelight, and she prayed to herself that her wine would arrive soon. She was sure she'd need it to get through this. “I’m... alright, I suppose?” He was so much calmer than she was and it was exacerbating her nerves. “You? How are you doing?”  
He glanced away from her. “I’m not bad. Weird day,” he smiled, before looking back at her.   
She nodded glumly, still unsure how to feel. She felt exposed and vulnerable, as if she’d been keeping this secret that she hadn’t asked for. “What, um... what brings you here? I don’t even know what you do.”  
“I’m a Healer now,” he explained. “I’ve been working around the country, mostly, but recently I’ve been trying to work with the ministry. We’re working on policies and restrictions that’ve been in place for years, and need updating.”  
“That sounds wonderful, I bet you’re great at that. What made you choose it?”  
He shrugged. “I’m getting there. After the war I felt like I’d contributed to a lot of... bad. It just made sense to begin to contribute to something good. Something that can help people.”  
She nodded, in awe of his self-awareness. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she started, before realising again how ridiculous it seemed that Draco Malfoy was sitting opposite her. “I’m sorry - I just can’t get my head around any of this. Why, after all this time?”  
He sighed. “I... for a long time, I’ve had dreams or sort of flashing memories that didn’t quite fit together. I ignored them for a while, but it was difficult. They were so frequent, and so vivid at times. Then, when I started training to be a Healer, I studied extensively on memory charms - it’s quite a common issue since the war. There were case studies that detailed patient explanations of how it felt and looked to have your memories adjusted... and I knew immediately that that’s what had happened to me.”  
“I didn’t even know that,” she breathed. She’d always assumed she was lost from his mind forever; gone without a trace.   
He nodded, his hands coming alive as he talked about it. “If you’re erasing a person, it becomes very complicated. Memories are entwined, it’s not as simple as removing them unless you want to remove every trace of that person and any association or experience that you ever had with them. I expect that the complication arose because I had to remember who you were to keep from causing suspicion since we had classes together, but forget what happened... later.”  
“Merlin,” she breathed, feeling weighted by shock.   
He nodded again, put paused. He was looking at her with concern.   
She sensed his hesitation, feeling guilty for finding it so hard when he’d been so excited to find her. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not very... I don’t know what to say. I never expected to even speak to you again. It was so long ago,” she said, a strain in her voice.   
“I understand.” Their drinks had arrived and he took a sip of wine, relaxing his posture slightly and smiling softly at her. “Tell me what you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again beauties! <3


	3. Did you really forget about me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco tells Hermione about the journey he'd taken to find her. The pair relive the joy of their best memories, and the pain that was thrust upon them through no fault of their own.

The witch and wizard spent the rest of their meal chatting about work and their experiences, and stayed off the topic of recently resurrected memories. They left the restaurant and found themselves wandering, as though not quite ready to part. Hermione was surprised at how easily the conversation had flowed; they’d fallen immediately into old habits, despite only one of their party knowing what their old habits actually were. 

“How’ve you been, since the other day? No more attacks, I hope?”  
She shook her head. “No, no more, thankfully. I’m not sure they’re gone for good though.”  
He nodded thoughtfully. “What brought it on, if you don’t mind my asking?”  
“Nothing in particular,” she sighed. “More like everything. I’m taking on too much lately, and it’s catching up with me.”  
“I’d have thought that was impossible from what I do remember about you.” It sounded like an insult to the tone, but a part of her could still recognise was trying to cheer her up, identifying the hint of a small curl at his lip.   
She shrugged.“It’s just what I do; saying yes to everything. Since I got my job within the ministry, I was determined to do it all. Conquer everything.”  
“I don’t doubt that you can,” he assured her. “But you need to look after yourself, too. Listen to what your body is telling you. Take it from someone who didn't look after themselves for a long time.”   
She swallowed, uncomfortable with his honesty. “I know you’re right. I’m just not very good at slowing down. I have a bit of a delegation problem – I’d rather achieve things myself. It’s greedy, if anything,” she laughed. It was nice to be able to talk about it this lightheartedly; she was realising these things for the first time as the words tumbled from her mouth.   
He paused for a moment, mulling her words over. “Well, once you have, you’ll soon be back on top. The magical creatures of the world will be very pleased to have you, I’m sure.”

They walked along the cobbled streets, pausing at a break in the trees that overlooked the river when Hermione decided it was time to give Draco some answers; but she was going to require answers from him first. She took a slow breath. “So... what happened next? When you realised you were experiencing similar symptoms to the patients you’d studied?” She felt more at ease in his presence, and more able to carry on.

"Ah," he murmured, as if it might prepare him tell this tale. “I studied it for a while longer, but came up short. I had no idea who had performed the spell, or how to find that information. It was so frustrating; I didn’t know where to go next. But then it occurred to me - each of the memories that had been tampered with take place while we were in school, before the war had truly begun. Before we were of age. So, if anyone knew, it would likely be my parents.”  
Hermione bit her lip at the thought. She’d not had the best run-ins with Draco’s relations, and it still felt uncomfortable thinking about them. “Did they know?”  
Draco let out a chuckle, as if knowing exactly why her lip was near to tearing between her teeth. “Not exactly. I visited my mother. I was sure that I’d have heard about this before now if my father had known, so she seemed the obvious choice. I asked her if, to her knowledge, I’ve ever had memories erased.” 

Hermione was entranced in hearing this story unfold; she had assumed for the longest time that Draco would never have the slightest inkling that any of this - _of them_ \- had ever happened. 

“Luckily for me,” he continued, “Snape had gone to her to tell her what he’d done - to tell her that I had asked him to remove someone from my memories. I couldn’t believe it - the last person you suspect is responsible for tampering with your memories is yourself.” He said it with a smile, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile back. He was as infectious as he had been back then. “Of course, that suggested that it was someone from within Hogwarts, as if that narrows it down. But Snape was good to me; he always was. He kept his word, seemingly; Mother told me that despite her prying, he refused to tell her who he’d erased from my memories for their protection, since that’s why I’d requested it in the first place. That I wanted to ensure Vol-” he paused momentarily. “To ensure Voldemort couldn’t hurt them.”

Hermione’s mouth was agape now. He nodded as acknowledgement. “I know. Such secrecy is great for ensuring protection, of course, but a great deal more difficult for my little investigation,” he laughed. “And being clever as he was, he had also warned her against telling me anything about it unless I came to her first." 

Hermione frowned at him in question.

He shrugged. "Informing someone that their memories have been tampered with can be dangerous. The person can become paranoid, and is likely to develop further difficulties with their mental health. Understandable, of course; you could lose faith in every memory you’ve ever had.”  
Hermione nodded, amazed at how little she knew about memory charms. "Well, of course! But... in that case, why did he tell her at all?"  
“He was looking out for me, as usual. He told her that although he'd removed the individual for the most part, he left remnants of memories, just in case we made it to the other side. Just in case of... this. He left snippets that no one else could understand, but I might feel, might pull back one day.”  
“Forgive me, but I still don’t think I understand.”

He was quiet for a moment, as if searching for the words. “Well, in the memory that led me here... I knew I wasn’t alone on that broomstick, but anyone else looking at it couldn’t have known. But I always knew. I could _feel_ you. I have tiny snippets of reading, where I can feel someone’s hand in mine, or where I’m leaning my head against someone’s shoulder. Where I can feel hair running through my fingers, or the weight of arms around my neck."

He watched her, perhaps for a reaction. She watched him in awe, having to force herself to look forwards every few seconds for fear of stumbling and falling flat. Her lips were parted, unable to comprehend that those memories were still inside of him.

He looked back at her softly. "The way I felt in each of one them was because of you. I just didn’t know until now.” 

Reading her look of surprise, he laughed. "Snape was always a bit of a romantic underneath it all."  
She smiled back at him, grateful to hear kind words about the potions master who once made her life seem so difficult. "You were lucky to have known him so well."  
He nodded sadly, breaking his eyes from hers. "One of the few, I expect. He looked out for me whether I deserved it or not; I owe him a great deal. It was like having a second father, at times." 

Hermione laughed. “He was a little bit nicer to me after he’d erased your memory,” Hermione joked. “And when I say a little bit, I mean a little bit.”  
Draco laughed fondly. "Sounds like him."

They walked quietly for a little longer, until it was Draco's turn to ask questions. “May I ask... how did it happen, you and I? I can't decipher any chronology. I don't know how we got there."  
Hermione sighed thoughtfully, playing it over in her mind. “It was sort of by accident, really. We kept running into each other in the library late at night, in the lead up to the OWLs. You were always alone, as was I, and... it just sort of happened. We slowly got to know each other, and slowly uncovered that we had something."

There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and it sent her straight back to when she used to admire it from across the library tables. "It was inconvenient, of course. We had to pretend to not like each other in front of everyone else. Inconvenient, but very fun for us,” she smiled.   
He smirked. “Hermione Granger, master of deceit. Who knew?”  
She shrugged. “You always thought it was funny that I was breaking the unspoken rule of mixing between our two houses." She laughed suddenly at a memory. "You know, once,” she giggled again, reliving it, “you winked at me across the Potions classroom. I nearly fell off my stool!”  
Draco burst out laughing instantly. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”  
Hermione felt herself go as pink as she had that day. “I was so shocked. You made fun of me for so long for that. I’m fairly sure Professor Snape noticed us from then, actually. I had to make up some mythical reason about feeling unwell to Harry and Ron to cover up the reason I'd slipped and gone crimson red.” She took in every inch of the way he looked with _that_ grin on his face, knowing she was down the rabbit hole of falling for him again. Knowing she didn't even care.

They’d reached an opening where a small stone wall stood, either side of a flimsy gate. The river on the other side twinkled as the sun set, pinks and oranges flurrying by gently. 

Draco's face came over suddenly glum. "I'm just realising that I've been feeling sorry for myself, frustrated, chasing dreams all of this time, when... You remember everything. I was able to walk away none the wiser, yet you had to live with it all, even while we still had to see each other. Had to carry on like nothing happened. I know from the pieces I can scrape together that we weren’t just one ride on a broomstick... it was more. But I also have very clear memories of being incredibly..." he paused, concern in his eyes. "Incredibly cruel to you.”  
Hermione bit her lip; she'd soon wear through it. "I..." she stalled, worried about what was about to pour out of her mouth; there was no way of telling it truthfully without being rather blunt. 

He was looking at her for an answer. Catching his eyes, took a breath. "I hated you for a long time. Hated you for walking past me without recognition when my heart was broken. It was easier to hate you. But then I'd feel gut-wrenchingly guilty. Removing those memories was an incalculably hard decision, and I knew that. I watched how hard that was for you." 

When she looked back at him, it was like looking into the eyes that cried all of those years ago, the lips that begged for her forgiveness, the boy who knew he had to break her heart. 

She took a breath. "So then, I'd feel like I was drowning in sorrow, almost mourning you, and could hardly get through the day. So then I'd hate you, just to get by. I lived like that for along time, until...” she shrugged.

"Until what?"

“Until I stopped letting myself think about you at all."

She looked at him again to see he rather looked like she had at the beginning of the evening. He started to speak a couple of times before anything emerged. "I am... I'm so sorry. It never occurred to me that the person I was chasing would have...that _you_ would have to live like that."

Hermione held up a hand in protest. "You don’t need to apologise; I promise, it's not necessary. You gave yourself to the Death Eaters to protect the people closest to you - that was an entirely different kind of pain, and a huge sacrifice."

She noted his eyebrows were strung together, and he appeared unconvinced. She tilted her head to look into his eyes, anything to emphasise her point. "The night it happened, you knew what you were doing, and weren’t at all ignorant of what I'd have to endure. And Draco - you were so, so sorry. Our challenges were different, but we both lost."

"Everybody lost," he added, sadness in his eyes.

He rested his hands against the wall in front of him, leaning against it, hanging his head slightly. "Sometimes I wonder how we're all still here at all. We're all still fighting, really."

Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty for bringing the tone to this point, but there was only one way to tell this story, and it was a sad one. “Least we have the panic attacks to stop us feeling too safe,” she joked.   
He nodded. “In light of all of this, I’m betting it’s not a coincidence that mine started in sixth year. It all makes even more sense, now.”  
Hermione’s heart sank. The thought of the boy she knew suffering like that at the very time her heart had been shattered was both reassuring and agonising. “They started when we were in our sixth year?”  
“The night I got my mark. It felt like the final nail in the coffin, like it was all really happening. Like there was no way out. That’s when they started.” 

He looked to Hermione, who was evidently struggling to hide how badly she was dealing with this information, and put his hand on her arm. “Don’t,” he started. “I’m so much better now, believe me. And they helped me to help you, in a strange, roundabout way.”

She looked at him longingly. Even now, every word he said seemed to cut straight to her heart. She felt it painfully unfair that they each felt obliged to repeatedly apologise to each other when neither of them had wanted any part of it.

Draco gestured toward the river. “Care to walk a bit further with me? It’s been a while since I’ve been around here.” 

They walked quietly for a minute or two, the water comfortingly swirling at their sides, before Hermione burst with the thought them was plaguing her. "There's something I'm still not sure about," she mused. He was inches from her side, and she had to try hard to keep her distance.

He nodded, indicating she ask. 

"After speaking to your mother... You knew it was someone from school; you knew it was someone that had to be protected from Death Eaters. How did you figure out that it was me?"

He smirked, though she was sure it was to cover up a hint of embarrassment. "I got a push in the right direction. Even outside of Hogwarts he’s the bloody hero,” he laughed. Hermione raised her eyebrows curiously, and he reluctantly kept going. “When I followed you that day, the day of your panic attack, I had the strangest feeling - as if I’d held your hands before. It felt so familiar, your hands against my chest, and I couldn’t get it out of my head for days." He sighed dramatically. "So, with a mystery to solve, who to turn to? Only one answer, of course. I went to see Potter.”

Hermione laughed sharply. "You are joking."

He smirked at her, rolling his eyes. "We've actually been in touch every now and then since the war. I've tried to make a whole lot of hurt up to him over the years. I told him that I'd spoken to you, that something felt unusual when I was with you - or, not unusual, I suppose, and wondered if he might know why since the two of you are so close, wondered if he could confirm what I thought I knew... and the look he gave me, well," he said, pulling a face. "Something was clearly up. It confirmed my suspicions there and then."

Hermione's mouth was wide open, and she suddenly let out a shout. "Oh! I didn't even... I completely forgot. Harry knew about us!" She couldn't believe that she'd forgotten.   
He nodded. “Apparently so. And he evidently didn’t spill it to anyone, though I can't imagine he was a huge fan of the idea at the time.”   
She laughed, everything making sense. "Yes, of course. He didn't find out about us until..." she couldn't help but ramble as memories flooded back to her. "The night... it happened, when we said goodbye, well... you can imagine the state I was in."

She noticed him scrunch his brow, uncomfortable at the thought. She shook her head, not wishing to dwell on it - not wanting another apology that neither of them should have to give. "He found me in the common room. I was in no shape to lie; he'd see straight through it. I told him what had happened, and what you’d done for me.” She suddenly frowned. “Actually... We've never talked about it since."

"Well, he hasn't forgotten," Draco said cheerily. "Seemed a bit alarmed at first, in all fairness, but then he quickly got excited. Another opportunity to be the hero," he laughed, teasing her. "He told me where to find you. That the unusual feeling I'd had was worth chasing. It was like the pieces I'd been carrying around with me suddenly fit perfectly together - so I ran."

Hermione shook her head, in disbelief that this story had unfolded in this way.

"How could you be so sure?"

"Well, as I spoke to Potter, I played that memory of flying over in my mind, like I have so many times - it was always the most vivid memory of them all. But instead of finding it cut short..." He smiled, his eyes darting around as if reliving it entirely. "It was like I could feel your hands against my chest. I could hear myself saying your name over my shoulder. I could feel your trust in me and I could feel how free it was to be in the sky with you." 

He sighed, a large, satisfied breath escaping him. "That memory has been cut off from me for so long, it was such a relief to feel it complete. To know I hadn't been going mad for all of these years, which really would have been a fair assessment," he smirked jokingly. 

She was watching him intently, enjoying every moment of Draco without the worry, without the apologies, without the burden of war. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him like that, even when they were still children.

He found her eyes again. "I'm so glad I found you. And that you're still willing to talk to me. It's so surreal - I've thought about you for years and not even known it."

Hermione smiled, though a little sadly.

He shook his head. “All that time we spent together... Did you really stop thinking about me?”

She paused, aware of the hurt in his voice, unsure of what to say. “Not exactly.” 

Suddenly knowing exactly what to do, Hermione stopped walking, taking a seat on a large rock nearby, and rifled through her bag. He sat next to her, waiting patiently. She pulled out a book and handed it to him. 

Draco took it and looked at it for a few seconds, puzzled. “Do I know this book?”

Hermione shook her head. “Open it.”

Following instruction, he let it fall apart in his hands. It easily fell open on the bookmarked page. He hesitated, before picking up the bookmark and examining it. It was a little worse for wear, torn at the edges and slightly crumpled, but the stars still glistened as they had when it was new. 

It was a minute before he spoke. “I bought this.” He turned it over in his hand. "In Hogsmeade."

“For me,” she added. "It was a gift. We were fifteen."

He was frowning at it, and she couldn't read his expression. “You still carry this?”

She shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “It was my way of keeping you with me, without keeping all of the pain. Helped me accept things for what they were, I suppose.”

“I can’t believe you kept this.” He shook his head and found her eyes, looking dumbfounded at her. 

She smiled nervously. “What?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you've got this far! This story has extended slightly every time I've added to it, so I hope everything is becoming clearer as this little reunion goes on. I've been absolutely addicted to Dramione fics over the last few months, and I'm trying to improve my own writing by reading the amazing work of other people on this brilliant site. Peace and love to all of you - this place is full of inspiration. :)


	4. Unfair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is haunted by the night she thought she lost her favourite Slytherin forever.

Hermione was twisting restlessly, floating in and out of consciousness. Her evening with Draco had been more than she could have hoped for, but her head was swimming. Each time he'd looked at her she was transported back in time to more complicated days, sneaking around the grounds with her public enemy. His eyes were exactly the shade she remembered and that curl in his lip still made her heart skip. He was a boy when she knew him, but he'd always carried more weight than any teenager should have to even be aware of. Thinking of that soft smile that he kept just for her, she eventually felt the relief of exhaustion taking over her.

_She found him, crumpled on the floor, his skin tear-stained. He didn’t look up at her; just gazed lifelessly at the floor, hands splayed against the concrete beneath._

_“Tell me, Draco.”_

_There was the tiniest shake of his head, and she knew in her gut that their time was up. She scrambled towards him, almost falling into the spot at his side. “You’re disappearing. I’m losing you. We’re all losing you.”_

_He turned his head so slowly to look at her that she thought it must be physically paining him. “I’m His, Hermione.”_

_She didn’t need clarification. On some unspoken level, they knew this day would come. He’d been marked since birth to follow in his father’s footsteps - it could never have been any other way. She knew her words were empty as they tumbled from her mouth. “It can’t be too late.”_

_He looked back at her, grey smudges under his eyes that usually were alert and bright; cheekbones more hollow than she’d ever seen them when they usually bounced over his face._

_He’d given up._

_“I’m nothing but a punishment,” he croaked. “I’d always end up here eventually. But this time... he wants my father to suffer, and he’ll do it through me.”_

_“You’re just a child! He can’t possibly believe you're old enough carry out his work!”_

_“I'm old enough to be made an example of.”_

Hermione forced her eyes open with every tired ounce of energy she could muster. She could remember his words so clearly; remember the tears falling relentlessly down each of their faces. She blinked hard, trying to prevent any new tears that threatened to rise behind her eyes. She willed her mind to think about something else, anything else, but she was falling, falling back to that night. She'd relived it in her nightmares so many times over that she could recite it word for word, and her brain, so used to being trained to fix things to memory, would not let it go.

_They sat in silence, neither able to contribute anything helpful. She lay her head on his shoulder, and his fingers stretched to find hers, effortlessly slotting together like jigsaw pieces. The only part of them that really did fit together in a cruel world._

_She heard him swallow against the drought in his throat. “I can’t be with you, Hermione. Not anymore.”_

_Hermione was hot with torment. “What has He done to you?”_

_He sighed deeply, avoiding her question. “If he finds out about you, he’ll kill you. I can’t let it happen. Things are already...” his voice cracked and he stopped. She could feel his fingers shaking amongst hers. The absence of the confident Slytherin she’d come to adore was terrifying. "He'll be in my head before I've even had time to realise it. And my head is consumed with you."_

_She leaned over him, her hand open in question. Understanding her silent request, he lay his forearm over her palm. Slowly, as if it might change the outcome, she peeled back the sleeve of his robes. His skin was cold to the touch. The Mark stared back at her ominously, steadily squirming on its pale canvas._

_She covered it with her outstretched hand and watched him wince. “What’s going to happen to you?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Draco, I’m scared for you.”_

_“Me too. I’m scared for my parents. I’m scared for you. It feels helpless. I feel a fool to have ever hoped I could stay away.”_

_She willed her brain to concoct something useful, something supportive, but every time she tried she choked and suppressed a sob instead._

She jolted herself awake this time, feeling the lump in her throat. Feeling the impossibility of holding in her cries and pleas and wishes that this wasn’t happening. ‘It isn’t happening,’ she told herself, but she could never black out the very words that shattered her teenage heart. Lying awake, she played the rest of the evening over in her mind as if on autopilot.

_Draco lifted a finger to her jawline, tilting her towards him. “Hermione?”_

_She near enough crushed her eyelids together, pushing tears from them to look back into the silver of his eyes._

_He exhaled unsteadily. “I’m going to ask Snape to remove my memories from you.”_

_It was like someone had taken her stomach and pulled it from her body. “What?”_

_“He’ll kill you. He’ll kill me. Without a second thought. You simply being who you are is an insult in his eyes, and the way I feel about you is a betrayal. I won’t let him get his hands on you - I’ve watched it happen to others for far less.”_

_The world seemed suddenly blotchy, as if she couldn’t be quite certain of anything anymore. Things became more complicated with each second since their arrival at Hogwarts five years ago, but even with every ridiculous barriers they’d all overcome, she could never have expected it would come to this._

_Her tears were back, spilling silently._

_He placed a hand against her cheek and looked into her eyes without so much as a blink. She could see the fear that radiated though him; unfamiliar and strange on his face. The moonlight shine over his skin, more prominently stretched over his features than it had in the months before. “This is the only way I can protect you.”_

_Hermione was losing her breath as the world fell from below her feet. He’d made his mind up, it was clear. This wasn’t a problem to be solved. “This isn’t fair.”_

_He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to cause you pain. Maybe we should have done this before - accepted our fates. Maybe it wouldn't have been so painful, but... I never wanted to let you go.”_

_She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing._

_Draco pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She sunk into him, instantly more comfortable, yet pained to know she'd never be able to feel his arms around her again. He spoke into her hair. “You know what this means. As far as I’ll know, our relationship will go back to... what it used to be.”_

_Hermione nodded, trying to push the thought from her mind. It hurt to know that that was not the worst part of this whole ordeal. “I’m so scared for you.”_

_He hesitated, and then sighed. “I’m scared too.”_

_He held her as she shook a little. “Hermione, I hope you know that you’re the only person I’ve ever known that I can be myself around. It’s like breathing fresh air, with you. You like who I am. I didn't think I'd ever find that.” A tear dripped from his nose and splashed on her hand._

_Hermione sobbed against him. “Draco, I don’t know how to do this without you.”_

_Draco caught his breath immediately, sitting up and holding her face in his hands. “Hermione, you are the only person who can do this. I’m terrified, but I know that in the end, you’ll win. In one way or another, you’ll win. It’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been.”_

_Hermione was filled with things she wanted to say, and she wished with all of her heart that he could see himself as she saw him. That he didn't need the act, or the name. He was enough, and it was a privilege to know him. She sat up straighter, mirroring him, wiping under her eyes to see him properly. “Draco, you are so much stronger than you think. So much stronger than you let yourself believe. And you love harder than a lot of people are capable of. I feel so lucky to know who you are.”_

_He kissed her with salty lips, and while she tried to kiss him back harder, she knew they were both trying to convince each other that they could survive - that even if they didn’t believe in themselves, they believed in each other._

_He leaned his forehead against hers, tucking her hair behind her ear._

_“If I don’t... if we never...” he sighed, stumbling over the cruel reality of the words. “I’m glad I got the chance to love you. Even just this once.” He forced a smile, and even with her heart that seemed to be crumbling into stone, it was infectious. Her lips tugged into a smile back._

_“I love you too.”_

_He stood, offering his hand to help her up, and embraced her tightly. She knew this was goodbye._

_“Whatever happens... promise me you’ll remember that I was like this once. I don’t know what I’m going to turn into beyond today, or how our paths will cross now. Just promise me that you’ll remember me this way.”_

_Hermione wiped her thumb under his cheek. “I will never, ever forget you.”_

Hermione sat up in bed, a weight falling from her shoulders as realisation poured over her. Realisation that for the first time, she could look back at that night and smile. She could be happy.

Be grateful to have known him.  
Be thankful that he survived.  
Be optimistic that maybe this world really isn't as cruel as it used to be.


	5. When I'm with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco doesn't remember much, but he remembers exactly how to get back to his witch.

Hermione walked back to the opening of the riverside where she'd walked with Draco the night before with a skip in her step. She'd not slept, nor had she worked very hard that day; too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours for her to even comprehend. But on Draco’s advice, she'd delegated a few projects that weren’t essential, pushed back some meetings, and the pile of work looked a little less daunting than it had at the start of the day. 

She'd stopped scolding herself for getting excited - she decided that she was going to enjoy having Draco back in her life, because even if he left this instant, she'd already had more than she ever thought she'd get again. She was kidding herself that she had been over him all this time; that was evidently not true, and she wasn't sure it ever could be. 

When the opening came into view, he was already waiting for her; his back to her, overlooking the lake... broom in hand. She stopped abruptly. "I should've known," she said dramatically.   
He turned slowly, smirk in place. "Well, there’s a lot I don’t remember, but I do know how this one goes. You said yes before, so I suppose I sweet-talked you into it."  
She smirked. "Yes, you did. And I must say, I wasn't very happy about it."  
"But you said yes."  
"I did."  
Draco nodded thoughtfully, a slight pout forming on his lips that Hermione recognised as satisfaction; she’d seen that face many times before. "I think I told you how much I love flying. Why I love flying."  
She attempted and failed to suppress the grin that was again forcing its way out.  
"...and I think I wanted you to experience that feeling with me. Am I about right?"  
"How did you know that? Is it your move or something?" She laughed.   
He shrugged casually. "I remember asking you to open your eyes; to look at the castle and the lake - in the middle of the night, no less." He pushed his free hand sheepishly into his pocket. "You don't take just any girl out to see a view like that. You take _the_ girl. The girl you can be honest and vulnerable with; the girl who will understand and appreciate the _real_ reason you like being so far from the ground."

Hermione could barely stand the words she was hearing. She knew that he wanted to share his favourite feeling with her, but he had never explained it quite like that. Her eyes were stinging. "Was there a fake reason?"  
Draco sniggered. "Course there was. I used to tell girls I had to fly so much because I liked Quidditch and I liked winning, and therefore needed to practice. Which isn't a lie, of course. But, it isn't the reason I love it." He was closer to her now, as he had been all of those years ago, broom in hand. "And I sure as hell never took them with me."  
She grinned unintentionally, secretly thrilled that she had been the only one. "I've not been on a broom since, if you must know." 

Draco instantly smiled back at her and she giggled again; he was clearly pleased with this information. He held his hand out in front of her. "Shall we change that?" 

Within seconds they were gliding into the air. Hermione’s mind was entirely distracted by surroundings that blurred past to worry about how it felt to clutch onto her most favourite wizard, and she instinctively tightened her grip on Draco every time they rose a little further. She was determined to keep her eyes open this time; it wasn’t often you got the opportunity to play out one of the best and most treasured experiences you have ever had again. She wanted to see it all. 

“Is this alright?” he’d keep asking her with every incline.   
“Yes!” she’d shout back. 

Draco followed the gentle curve of the river from a height for while before pulling to a halt when the clouds cleared. A patchwork quilt of fields was spread below them, with pin prick cars jostling between the joins that were gravelly, country roads. Hermione watched intently, enjoying the lack of buildings that she was so used to seeing everyday. 

Draco held back his head and sighed deeply. “This feels... I can’t find the words. To chase something for so long and then actually watch it play out in front of you is indescribable.”  
Hermione nodded to herself, feeling slightly dazed, but in a wonderful way. “Do you still fly?”  
“When I can. Not as much, of course, but I try and make time. I think flying was largely how I managed to reduce my panic attacks. You can leave every worry or concern you’ve ever had on the ground when you come up here. The whole world stops, and you can take the time to breath.”  
Hermione leaned her cheek against Draco's back. He tilted his head across his shoulder. “You okay?”  
She nodded. “I love the way you explain things. You always did have a way with words.”

Draco seemed to stiffen suddenly. “Hermione, what you’ve had to go through... weren’t you ever tempted to ask for the same as I? To rid yourself of the memories, and move on?”  
She sat up, surprised by the question. “Never.”  
“But why? Surely you might have found some peace.”  
“Perhaps,” she mused. “But that was the happiest time of my life. And anyway, my favourite Slytherin asked me to promise that I’d always remember him the way he was when we were sixteen. Wanted to live on, in some way. Not be remembered for the evil, but for the good he was capable of being.”  
She watched him scrunch his eyes closed. “You astonish me.” He covered her hands with his and Hermione could swear that there was an electric shock pulsating through her, like the stars had aligned.  
“Slytherins are often misunderstood creatures, I’ve found,” she smiled.   
He laughed softly. “How is it possible to feel so at ease with you, when I can hardly remember us? We should almost be strangers.”  
“I’m not sure,” she mused, distracted by the feeling of his fingers against hers. “But those memories really happened, whether you remember them or not. I suppose usually, when you meet someone from your past, you tend to pick up where you left off. Maybe some part of your mind is trying to do that.”

Draco was quiet for a short while, pondering her words. “We were in love, weren’t we?”  
Hermione felt her heart thump harder at the mention of it. “Yes.”  
He smiled, tightening his grip on her hand. “You know all this time, I thought that perhaps I couldn’t?”  
She frowned up at him, wishing she could see his face more clearly. “Couldn’t love?”  
“I’ve derailed every relationship I’ve ever had because it didn’t compare to what I felt in those memories. I thought I might have created a fantasy; exaggerated what I was feeling in my dreams. Sabotaging any relationship because it didn’t live up to a feeling that possibly didn’t ever exist soon becomes wearing. I thought the world was telling me that I was incapable.”  
Hermione felt instantly defensive. “That’s not true. I told you once that I think that, in fact, you love harder than other people do. And maybe that’s what caused you to be cruel, when you were young. You were always determined to protect people you were closest to.”  
He laughed. “You must have gotten to know me quite well.”  
“I did. And here you are, a Healer, protecting everyone,” she smiled. Draco’s thumb was ambling back and forth over her wrist, and it was so comforting. “Things in this world seem to have a way of coming full circle. I often wonder how, within a world of magic, I still get surprised. But here we are.”  
He nodded. “I suppose that’s it, isn’t it? Anything is possible; you can’t be prepared for all of it.” He took one last look around, before letting go of her hand. “I’m going to take us over the tops, then I’ll bring us back. Okay?”  
“Okay.”   
Patches of warm evening sunlight flashed by them as they flurried through the sky. Hermione realised that she wasn’t scared at all, and could quite happily have never come back down. Draco manoeuvred them gently lower, until they slipped in and out of the trees, and emerged back at the riverside where they’d departed.

They landed gracefully, and Hermione clambered off, a few quick excited steps escaping her. A clashing war between calm and thrill was overtaking her and her smile was insatiable.   
Draco’s eyes followed her. "There's still something I need your help with."  
She nodded at him happily, overcome with energy.   
He stood his broom against a nearby tree, then turned back to her. "How did I get you to kiss me?"

Hermione bit her lip at the memory, goosebumps covering her skin. "I remember it exactly."  
He cocked his head with curiosity. "Tell me."  
“Well,” she said with a pause, nerves running through her with anticipation. “We were friends for a long time, before the night you asked me to fly with you,” she started. “But that’s when it all really began. You brought me down from our flight, and I thanked you for taking me. I was so excited; I’d not expected to love it the way you do. It was... wonderful.”   
He was staring intensely at her, and she was struggling to focus on her words. She shook her head with disbelief as she relived the feeling. “You said you wanted to share it with me, because it’s the greatest feeling of all.”

He was closing the distance between them with every sentence she spoke.   
She swallowed. “And then you told me that the only other time that you feel like that, is..."  
Inches from her now, Draco stopped. "When I'm with you." 

The words almost bewitched Hermione’s lips into finding his, as though their bodies were destined to be one. Draco’s lips were cold against hers from the evening air, and his arms were already snaking around her. She knew that even if she let herself fall right now, she wouldn’t budge in his grasp. She ran a hand through his hair and kissed him over and over, finally satisfying a thirst she’d never truly lost.

Draco rested his forehead against hers, still only a kiss away from her lips. “I thought I was chasing dreams, when I’ve been searching for you.”  
She grinned. “We always used to say that we were complicated. This has been the most complicated reunion imaginable - quite fitting for us, I think.”  
He leaned back slightly, pushing a curl behind her ear. “I like complicated. But what do we do now?”

She thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. It was always so difficult before, making excuses and sneaking around, but now... the war is over. We could do anything. Go anywhere. Perhaps it’s time to try something new, that neither of us have memories of.”  
Draco had a glint in his eye. “I think you should take a break from work, with me.”  
Hermione’s eyes lit up. She’s not taken a break since - well, ever.  
“We both could use it,” he continued. Let’s leave for a few days, and then come back. You’ll be killing it again before you know it.”   
Hermione was nodding already, intoxicated with him, almost laughing at how unlike her this was. “Where?”

Draco held out his hand and she took it gladly. They wandered back through the streets, chattering about the endless possibilities of where they could go and what they wanted to see. They soon arrived back at Hermione’s front door, but as she turned to look back at Draco, he looked slightly nervous.   
“Hermione,” he started, and she watched him intently. “This last couple of days have been surreal, but in the real world... I know who I am. Ex Death Eater, with parents who - although are more open minded than they once were - are still a work in progress... as am I.” He shrugged. “I’m not easy. And I don’t want to let you down after all of this time.”  
She kissed him softly, hoping to convey how she felt for him; how hard she would try and understand. “I’ve never liked ‘easy’ anyway,” she grinned.  
He laughed, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Me neither.” He wandered back down the path and out of her gate before turning back to her. “Have your bags packed in two days' time, Granger,” he chimed, and with a final grin, he was out of sight. But this time, it wouldn't be forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to those of you who've been following this little story. Getting lost in Dramione fics has been my favourite past-time for recent months, but I haven't got back into writing for a long while. This has given me a reason to get back into it :) Much love to you!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading as always; this is my favourite place. :)


End file.
